


Anya Griffin

by Alexis_Payton



Series: The Little Pauna [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Family Drama, Family Feels, Knifeplay, Smut, Two Shot, someone gets strapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:35:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26841517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Payton/pseuds/Alexis_Payton
Summary: Things have calmed considerably after the Conclave and it’s making Clarke itch with restlessness. Lexa has some really nice ways of helping, which work, until their daughter decides to pull the rug right out from under Clarke’s feet.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: The Little Pauna [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/648467
Comments: 60
Kudos: 207
Collections: Best Canon/Canon-Divergent Clexa Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I wanted to write some smut and angst. 
> 
> If you haven't read the Little Pauna series, you're not gonna know who most of these people are, why there's angst, understand Clarke and Lexa's dynamic, and you will be grossly spoilered.
> 
> Despite the title, this story revolves around Clarke, as this series does.
> 
> Hope you enjoy <3

The evenings were getting cooler, and they needed light jackets during most days. Pleasantly crisp air drifted in from their open balcony doors and Clarke inhaled the scent of Lexa’s clean skin, smelling of her very own brand of honey and oatmeal soap.

Her wife sat on an armchair, dressed in only a white shift, Clarke on a pillow on the ground in front of her. She had placed Lexa’s long smooth leg across her shoulder, absently hugging a toned calf to her breasts while she stared at her empty sketchpad.

“I think I want a baby,” Clarke hesitantly mumbled and was promptly choked by the powerful leg wrapped around her that thankfully relaxed when the book Lexa had been reading fell on Clarke’s head and was quickly picked up again.

“Sorry,” Lexa said in a fearful voice and Clarke only nodded, kissed her calf and gave Lexa a moment to compose herself.

Keeping that leg close, she shifted sideways and laid her head on Lexa’s other knee, peeking up her shift, before staring at a pair of wide panicked eyes, and an open-mouthed stare.

Clarke kissed the inside of Lexa’s knee, who rapidly blinked a few times, before placing her book on the side table. She could practically see the cogs turning in Lexa’s brain while she searched Clarke’s face and then seemed to come to a conclusion, leaning back into her seat, a hand reaching out to stroke through Clarke’s hair.

“Do you feel unfulfilled?” Lexa sagely asked and Clarke nearly didn’t want to talk anymore when Lexa’s magic fingers soothingly scratched her scalp.

“I feel content and happy,” she sleepily admitted. “But—and I know this is going to sound awful, but sometimes I miss the threat of war. Trying to outsmart a few assholes, ordering assassinations, intimidating clan leaders...”

Lexa smiled. “You’re bored.”

“I'm a horrible person,” Clarke shamefully admitted. “Our people don’t need us. Our children don’t need us. Jake’s growing up so fast…”

God, they had needed to have the sex talk with him in collaboration with Bellamy and Echo who had it with Wrex and then set up boundaries for them on what was allowed and not, in their relationship at their age. They had brought in Grunt too who went camping with the young boys and Bellamy, just to make sure Jake wasn't holding any questions back because they were his moms.

They had done the same for Aiden when he was twelve, but Jake's not nearly as naive as Aiden had been. He most likely had learned all he needed from the many books he possessed and was available to him in the house if he really went looking.

Lexa smiled amusedly. “I'm certain that Aiden will be more than happy to welcome you as an advisor again.”

Clarke shook her head. She and Lexa had stayed on as advisors for a year after the Conclave. Had they been anyone other than his mothers, it would've worked out perfectly. But, though Aiden knew it wasn't on purpose, the clan leaders would automatically defer to them. Especially to Lexa. Their people still called her Heda even when they acknowledge Aiden as their new Commander.

No, they couldn't serve officially on his council and Aiden only came to them for advice when things got really bad. And things haven't been bad... They have been really good, in fact. Peaceful and utterly boring. Clarke didn’t know what to do with herself, so restless she could hardly paint.

Lexa grew quiet, and Clarke watched her pretty brain working to try and help with her ridiculous feelings.

“You know I'm happy in our marriage and more in love with you than ever, right?” Clarke checked, just in case.

Lexa looked up and grinned at her. “I know, Clarke,” she confidently stated, though Clarke had been looking closely and could see the last of the tension finally leaving her shoulders.

She had learned to take note of these little things and it was partly why their bond continued to only grow stronger. Without having to deal with her advisor duties, Clarke had been able to finally enjoy her beautiful houmon. Which was why her discontent left her so frustrated and confused because things were great. Why couldn't that be enough?

“We were never young,” Lexa murmured. “Maybe we should be a bit more adventurous.”

She motioned with her hand toward the floor, and Clarke handed her the sketchbook and pencil.

“Let’s make a list,” Lexa said.

***

A naughty Lexa with a list, Clarke had to admit, was far better than starting over with another child. They would soon be rid of Jake and Anya was often travelling to other clans. Aiden and his wife had their own home in Polis and Clarke would most likely be a grandmother soon, but that was another emotional hurdle Lexa would no doubt gracefully help her stumble through.

She was the Little Pauna. She could not have a grandchild, yet. Not when her wife was still so hot and the women of Polis were only growing bolder.

The house was big, but often filled with family and friends, and that day, Roan was visiting, while his delegation stayed with Aiden. Ilian was representing Azgeda on the council, allowing him to join her and Lexa for tea in the garden.

“I’ve decided to step down,” he said and Clarke immediately noted Lexa’s lack of surprise. How close she sat. How Clarke’s tea had been made to perfection, and served to her.

“I’m honestly surprised you hadn’t done it the instant there was peace,” Clarke carefully said.

“The Coalition has never felt this stable before. The clans are focused on sustainable development. Aiden is maintaining Leksa’s progress and starting to implement new projects. Our people are looking to Polis as an ideal and the leaders, for now, seem to realise how much senseless war has crippled us.”

Clarke and Lexa both nodded and silence fell, so Clarke took a sip of her tea and waited for the bomb to drop.

Lexa’s arm wrapped around her shoulders and she leaned into it, watching Roan with narrowed eyes.

“I want my son to have a choice on whether or not he will be king,” Roan said. “In the interim, I will be naming Ilian as my successor.”

Clarke placed her cup down on the metal table, so hard, it shattered. Neither Roan or Lexa reacted and she stared at the spilt liquid dripping through the metallic patterns.

Of course, Aiden and Ilian had been working together since their final fight in the Conclave. They seemed to have put it all behind them and Clarke commended her son for being the bigger person, but she didn’t have to be. Ilian kom Azgeda was forbidden from entering her home. She would have forbidden him from coming anywhere near Polis again if she could.

Forbidden him with her knife in his throat had Lexa not stopped her.

“Well, far be it for me to tell a King how to run his kingdom,” Clarke said, got up and walked away, a feeling of dread twisting in her gut.

***

Her legs pumped, thighs burning as she sprinted through the forest. Her heart beat so fast with adrenaline that she was sweating much more than she should’ve given her level of fitness. She needed to pace herself, but her focus was on not tripping over a rock or a branch and spraining her ankle.

It would be over for her then.

She ducked down a trench and skidded to a halt before running up the slope again and taking off more carefully in a different direction. That would only buy her more time if it worked as a distraction. Clarke was doubtful though and immediately sped up, attempting to keep to harder ground, changing direction frequently.

She needed to find somewhere to hide and almost stopped in relief when she heard the river roaring nearby. She quickly made it to shore, lithely jumped from rock to rock, right over the river, onto the rocks on the opposite bank and took off into the forest again.

She ran for five more minutes, before she found a thick crop of bushes and slowed, carefully hiding her tracks and slipped between the foliage.

Crouched down low she attempted to steady her breaths and calm her heart. She looked up at the sun to find her bearings. About five miles from Polis, she would be able to sprint home if she could rest a little and gather some energy. 

Her paranoia had her feeling eyes on her, though, despite knowing she was entirely concealed. Birds and insects loudly chirped and chittered and Clarke kept imagining footsteps nearing her.

The hair at the back of her neck raised and Clarke couldn't help it, she took off running again.

She didn't look back, but could feel that she was being chased. Hunted down. Her lungs burned, her focus blindly on the forest bed to avoid tripping and falling and swore under her breath when she burst into a wide-open clearing and felt like a sitting duck.

She pushed her body to its limits and practically dove into the bushes on the other side. Turning around and drew her sword, ducked and focused on the clearing, her side pressed to a tree to cover her flank.

Lying in wait, she slowed her breaths, knowing she would lose any element of surprise if she didn’t calm.

Minutes passed like hours. The forest quiet around her save for the wind and the birds. Clarke tried to listen for other sounds, but heard nothing, and began to wonder whether she had imagined the footsteps earlier. Maybe she had been so riled up she had imagined being followed.

Frowning, she slowly rose from her hunched position and immediately froze at the cool blade against her throat.

“Kefa, Pauna.” Hot breath whispered over her ear. “Lagen…”

_Careful, Pauna. Slowly..._

Clarke swallowed thickly, heartbeat picking up, and slowly straightened to her full height.

“Drop daun oyu bleirona.”

She immediately dropped her sword, eyes falling shut when a warm body pressed against her back and an achingly familiar hand trailed across her waist and possessively cupped her between her thighs.

Clarke moaned obscenely loudly, the sound met by a filthy chuckle against her earlobe.

“Dula set yu daun, Steltrona?” Lexa lowly husked, teeth grazing below her ear.

_Do you surrender, Steltrona?_

Whimpering, Clarke melted against her, allowing the possessive hand between her legs to keep her up, shuddering at the blade tip, scratching across the skin of her chest, so sharp, it quickly cut through her leather vest.

“Beja, Heda,” she softly pleaded. Careful to remain still, because Lexa would stop everything if Clarke moved and cut herself.

Lexa ignored her, removing her hand and Clarke’s knees weakened when her vest was torn open and thrown to the ground.

She was smoothly flipped, her back pressed against the tree.

Pupils blown wide, nearly eclipsing green, Lexa took her in, Clarke’s pants undone and half over her ass, and only her bindings covering her torso.

Clarke’s fingers dug into the rough bark, when the tip of Lexa’s knife pressed below her bellybutton. Sucking in a breath, careful to keep her stomach steady, she stared at Lexa’s face as the blade gently ran up her stomach, and stopped at the material of her bindings.

She licked her lips and shuddered when with a flick of her wrist, the bindings were cut clean off, and Clarke’s breasts fell free. Moaning, she wanted to massage them, but knew better than to move, and instead, kept her death grip on the bark.

Lexa lithely twirled the blade between her fingers. “Slaken op,” she instructed and Clarke’s mouth fell open, the handle of Lexa’s knife gently placed sideways in her mouth. She bit down onto the wood, chest heaving with excitement, a soft whine of anticipation escaping her when Lexa’s hands settled on her waist.

A soft searching gaze travelled over her face and Clarke tilted her head.

“Gud?” Lexa earnestly checked and Clarke grinned over the knife’s handle and nodded, her eyes falling shut when a soft kiss was placed on her forehead.

Clarke’s chest ached with fondness, nearly taking out the knife to tell Lexa how much she loved her, but rough hands cupped her breasts and Clarke’s head fell back against the tree. She breathed sharply through her nose when Lexa immediately covered a tight nipple with her mouth, sucking hard as she palmed Clarke’s other breast.

“Yu laik souken gon ai?”

_Are you wet for me?_

Clarke moaned and bucked her hips, eyes rolling into the back of her head when Lexa’s long fingers stroked through slick folds. She was purposely gentle, slowly working Clarke up, until Clarke was both unbelievably aroused and frustrated.

Twisting her hips, she tried to get Lexa’s fingers where she needed them.

“Nou.” Green eyes flashed with the reprimand and Clarke nearly came on the hand that stilled against her. “Op gon gud.”

_Be good._

Clarke nodded and moaned in relief when a finger slipped inside her. She was so wet that a second finger followed almost immediately along with Lexa’s mouth sucking on her nipple. Her nails dug into the bark, lightly meeting Lexa’s thrust and shuddered when her nipple was roughly pinched and Lexa bit into her neck.

“Ai na sen yu,” Lexa growled into her neck and Clarke cried out around the knife, when a third finger tightly squeezed inside her.

_I can smell you._

Lexa kept her fingers still as Clarke throbbed around them, sucking on her neck and brushing the pad of her thumb over her nipple, another wave of arousal had her slip in deeper and Clarke whimpered when Lexa’s thigh pressed behind her hand, and she started thrusting in and out, slowly picking up pace.

The knife nearly fell out of Clarke’s mouth it felt so good, and she had to remember to bite down, because if the knife fell, Lexa would stop. A flash of fear made her stomach lurch, blurring deliciously with arousal.

Lexa let out a dirty chuckle, as though she knew and then her mouth was on Clarke’s nipple again, her hand palming the other.

“Pas taim yu kom op,” Lexa said, curling her fingers and Clarke’s head spun, wanting to touch her, but her grip tightened on the bark as her hips mindless moved against Lexa’s thrusts.

_After you come,_

“Ai na jok yu kom ste ai swis,”

_I’m going to fuck you with my knife._

Clarke released a muffled cry, hips wildly bucking when Lexa pinched her nipple and pressed her palm down so Clarke could come against it. Her arms left the bark and Lexa allowed Clarke to tightly embrace her.

“Slaken op, Klark,” Lexa softly asked and Clarke still shook, but had enough sense to release her bite on the knife handle, Lexa gently removing it from her mouth. She moaned and clenched around the fingers still slowly fucking into her and sighed against the soft lips that kissed her cool dry mouth.

At first, she could just move her own lips as Lexa kissed her, holding on the muscular back shifting beneath her grip. But gradually the fingers inside her began picking up pace, and Clarke deepened the kiss, her hips jerking back to life, her abs tight with use.

“Moubeda?” Lexa asked, smiling into the kiss.

_More?_

“Sha, Heda,” Clarke mumbled and yelped when Lexa’s fingers left her and she was quickly spun around, her cheek pressed firmly against the tree trunk.

***

Lexa had chased her down with a backpack that contained a set of clothes for Clarke, a bedroll, a spear and a knife. And, while Clarke napped in the sun like a lazy housecat, had hunted a rabbit they’d had for lunch while sharing a flask of wine.

They had been experimenting for a few years, one of both their kinks involved trying to have sex on the thrones of all the clan leaders. They’d been caught twice, but no one had said anything and the year before, they had finished their list on the soft cushioned throne of the Ailonkru.

Lexa definitely had a list fetish, though. Crossing off items really got her horny. Clarke was sure going to write that day’s excursion at the bottom so they could do it again in future. Playing hide and seek with Lexa was an experience she needed to repeat as frequently as possible.

After she found her legs again, Lexa packed up their little camp and Clarke made a mental note to draw her a bath when they got home and make sure Cook made some of her favourite desserts. They held hands on their way back to the private entrance through the wall in Polis and when they cleared the forest, they noticed two people stood beside the door, heatedly kissing.

They stopped and gaped when they seemingly simultaneously recognised the woman as their daughter.

“We should probably give them their privacy,” Lexa mumbled, having already turned away from the scene, ears bright red.

Clarke’s eyes narrowed on the couple, wondering why Anya would hide this when she told Clarke everything.

“Do you know him?”

When Lexa didn't answer, Clarke found her scowling and then Lexa dropped her backpack and spear and ran forward, Clarke hot on her heels, sword drawn, unsure what was happening. She paused when Anya yelped when Lexa ripped the man away from her, punching him so hard he fell to the ground, a look of surprise on his very familiar face.

Clarke saw red, gripping her sword tightly and Ilian was barely back on his feet when Lexa had him by his shirt.

“Nomon, stop!” Anya said.

“Go inside!” Clarke barked at Anya, both of them surprised by the vitriol, even Lexa turned to look at Clarke and Ilian only stood there, hands held up in supplication, warily glancing between the three of them.

Anya didn’t go inside, instead, she carefully positioned herself between Lexa and Ilian.

“Go, Ilian,” she softly said.

He hesitated, but then slowly backed up and then walked away.

“If you set foot in Polis again, I’ll fucking kill you!” Clarke shouted after him.

Anya stared at her, eyes wide and distraught. She didn’t say a word, only looked back once to make sure Ilian was far enough away to escape them and then she entered Polis.

“What the fuck, Leks?” Clarke asked, setting off after Ilian but Lexa took hold of her arm, bringing her to a halt.

“Let’s speak to her first, okay?”

Clarke glared after Ilian disappearing into the woods and reluctantly nodded.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Aiden had married Reina, who was nothing like anyone in their family and Clarke had come to love that about her. They lived in the former guest house, now their home, where they continued to entertain the delegations. Aiden had been uncomfortable taking Lexa’s throne, and even more so, with taking over her space, so he had commissioned his own. He was building his own family and legacy and close enough so they could frequently enjoy family dinners together.

Clarke was happy for him, because she could see how happy he was. She wanted that for all her children. Jake seemed stuck in puppy love with Wrex and Clarke was trying not to stress about that possibly ending in tears, but for years, she had patiently waited for her daughter to fall in love.

Year after year, Anya seemed to care less about romance and appeared to not even be attracted to anyone. She drew attention everywhere she went, and yet reciprocated none of the interest she garnered from all genders, until finally Clarke had just made peace with the fact that maybe Anya just wasn’t interested. Or maybe, she was like her Nomon, who seemed to wait until she randomly stumbled upon the right one. Whether she was sitting in a tree smiling at her, or walking into her tent after killing a whole bunch of her warriors.

Either way, Clarke had decided not to push Anya, or set her up, or ask at all. She had trusted her daughter to know her own wants. To come to her when she met the right person.

And now _this._

Anya didn’t ignore them, exactly, she’d just gone quiet. Not that a quiet Anya was anything new, but the air of defeated melancholy she was shrouded in, definitely was. She hardly spoke to anyone unless they were patients and colleagues at the hospital.

Clarke was ashamed that she knew that, because she had asked Akhila to keep an eye on her. Like she had asked Akhila to watch Ilian, who had set up camp outside of Polis’s gates. He had a tent Clarke could only assume Roan had supplied since the Azgeda delegation had left for the Ice Nation, and Akhila also reported that he had apparently started a garden patch.

The _nomonjoka_ was taunting them, and Clarke was going to enjoy finally killing him.

“He’s a decade older than her!” she yelled, pacing in front of her mother, sister, and wife. All seated while Clarke found that remaining still was the most difficult thing when that man had wormed his way into her daughter’s precious heart.

She had always considered him a threat. When he was promoted to General, Lexa and Aiden had pleaded with her to let it go for the sake of peace. But _this_? This was taking it too far. Clarke had given him the benefit of the doubt because Roan was a friend, but he has come after her family _again_!

No one responded about the age difference. It was technically eight years, still a lot, but also the least of their concerns. Anya had always been an old soul though, maybe if it was anyone else, maybe Clarke could’ve made an attempt to see past that. But no, not _him_. He needed to be eliminated, and soon.

“What are we supposed to do?” she anxiously asked the room.

She wanted to speak with Anya, but she was so afraid, because whenever she tried to think of what she would say, her brain just screamed a loud resounding ‘ _no_ ’. Or just _screamed_.

And to top it all off, Lexa had closed up too.

“Aiden knew about this?” Echo asked.

Lexa nodded from her seat next to Abby, tentatively sipping a cup of tea and stared off into space.

“Aiden would never allow anything to happen to Onya…” Echo tried to reason.

Clarke wasn’t speaking to her son. She was angry at him for knowing and not saying anything. For allowing the courtship to continue _with_ his apparent blessing!

“Sometimes you believe in someone, and sometimes you were right to do that, but more often than not, it turns out to have been a huge mistake,” Clarke rebutted. “If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that people can be absolutely awful, manipulative, and untrustworthy.”

“You didn’t learn that they could change?” Abby asked.

And Clarke just couldn’t understand why she was the only one losing her fucking mind over this. Yes, they were all shaken, but they didn’t seem nearly as affected as Clarke felt they should be.

“He has it out for my family! He tried to _kill_ my son!”

“I understand what you’re feeling, Clarke,” Abby quietly continued and Clarke was about to snap at her that no, she really fucking didn’t, when Abby reached out a hand and gently rested it on Lexa’s.

Clarke’s jaw clenched shut when Lexa’s face softened and she stared at Abby’s hand on her own, even while Abby continued to look at Clarke.

“My daughter once stood in front of me and told me she loved someone I perceived as the enemy.” Abby’s words hit hard.

“It’s not the same,” Clarke whispered.

Abby took Lexa’s hand, holding it tenderly. “ _I_ didn’t know that back then. I only realised what a beautiful person you fell in love with when I saw you two together. It took time, Clarke.”

“Time?” Clarke’s voice broke. “You want me to give him more time to weasel his way into this family? He couldn’t get Aiden, or Leksa. Onya is our heart. She can protect herself against him physically, but what if this is just a plan to finally get his vengeance? What if he’s only using her? He has the power to destroy her and you want me to sit back and give him the time to do so? To trust that his intentions are pure?”

“The relationship you and I had back then, doesn’t compare to the one you and Lexa have with Anya, now,” Abby gently said. “This isn’t about trusting him, Clarke. It’s about trusting her.”

***

Clarke had left the room after that and didn’t speak to anyone else about it. Lexa understood why she was driving herself crazy, and let her be. They needed to speak to Anya and Lexa was waiting on Clarke to work up the courage so they could go do it together.

She was given an entire week to avoid it, and when she still didn’t budge, Lexa took her by the hand and led her to Anya’s room. They stood outside the door and Lexa made no further move. She’d led the horse to water.

Clarke took a deep breath, before softly knocking on Anya’s door.

It took a while for it to open and Clarke held Lexa’s hand so tightly it hurt. There was far too much at stake. She could lose Anya if she handled the situation the wrong way, regardless of Ilian’s intent. Anya could get hurt in so many ways if Clarke fought against this, or if she _didn’t_ fight against it.

Then Anya was standing there. Pretty brown eyes red-rimmed and watery, before she cast them down and away from them.

“May we come in?” Lexa softly requested, while Clarke’s grip tightened in her hand to stop herself from hugging her daughter and asking her to please never ever go near Ilian again.

“Of course, Nomon,” Anya murmured just as quietly, before she stepped back and held the door open for them.

They walked over to the sofa and sat down together, while Anya stood gazing out the window at the heavy rain pouring down, seeming to forget for a second that she wasn’t alone in the room.

Clarke could only stare at her. Soak her in. It was wrong to have favourite children, but Anya was definitely Clarke’s. Their entire family knew that and accepted it. They were close. Part of her felt some betrayal at the fact that Anya didn’t tell her about Ilian. Had it been his idea to keep their relationship a secret? If his intentions were honourable, why were they hiding it? Aiden had known about them for over a year. He said that Anya and Ilian had been together for long before that.

“Azgeda tents are of excellent quality,” Lexa’s smooth tone washed over Clarke, calming her before she realised what Lexa was implying. “They can withstand the harshest of elements.”

Anya instantly stiffened, before she let out a breath and turned away from the rain to look at Lexa, avoiding Clarke’s gaze entirely.

“Please sit down, Yujon,” Lexa asked, nodding to the desk chair and squeezed Clarke’s hand.

Anya mechanically went to fetch the chair and placed it down opposite them, on the other side of the coffee table, looking as though she was on trial. She sat with her back ramrod straight and folded her legs at her ankles, placing her hands in her lap, before staring at her fingers.

Clarke still hadn’t taken her eyes off of her. She didn’t have anything to say; her brain was completely overwhelmed with the urge to hold Anya and protect her forever. She was utterly grateful for Lexa facilitating the entire discussion.

“Do you love him?” Lexa’s tone was calm and soft, but the question punched Clarke right in the gut. Why were they starting there? Surely there was an easier question to ask? Not one that would instantly confirm Clarke’s worst fear.

“Sha, Nomon.” Anya looked up at Lexa when she answered. Resolute and without fear or shame.

With another pang, Clarke realised that the timidity was because Anya felt as though she had disappointed them.

“What do you love about him?” Lexa shakily asked.

Anya tilted her head in thought.

“We recognized in each other a shared gratitude about having found a second family that offered us love and acceptance,” she said. “He knows what it’s like to strive toward feeling worthy of that second chance whilst also fearing that you’ll lose it all again. He gets that desperate need we have to be good. _Perfect._ As though that alone would stop the universe from taking even more from us...”

“ _Ahn_...” Clarke’s anguished breath filled the room. Paralyzed, as she attempted to replay Anya’s childhood in her brain and all those times she had boastfully proclaimed her daughter as perfect.

She tried to remember how many times she had said it to Anya; whether it had been validation or just added pressure to be something more, or maintain something Anya didn’t want to be….

“I know, Mom...” Anya tremulously smiled, finally looking at Clarke. “I know that I never needed to be anything I didn't want to be. But Ilian understands how hard it is to stop feeling that way. He understands in the way that Nomon understands...”

They both looked at Lexa, whose eyes were glistening while she stared at Anya. And Clarke realised that whatever her childhood had been, even adding the horror of losing her father and being jailed thereafter, she still didn’t have the most traumatic childhood in that room. And how messed up was that?

“He understands me, like you and Mom understand each other,” Anya murmured. “And he knows that if you ask me to choose between my family and him, that I will always choose my family. No matter how much I love him.”

Clarke’s chest tightened so painfully, it felt as though it was squeezing the tears from her eyes. She stared at Anya’s own tears running down her cheeks as for once she was holding Clarke’s gaze. Clarke didn’t have to look to know that Lexa wasn’t fairing much better.

They had agreed that they wouldn’t talk ultimatums and choices; that they would only come to listen.

Clarke’s throat was thick and aching and she doubted she would be able to speak, had she any words to say.

Anya loved him. There was no doubt in Clarke’s mind that she loved him freely and genuinely and that made the whole situation that much more terrifying.

The room fell into a tensed silence before finally Anya inhaled a steadying breath. “May I please be excused?” she thickly requested, her gaze shifting to Lexa who wordlessly nodded and watched her leave her own bedroom.

***

The next day, Clarke paced the wall by the gates, watching Lexa and Ilian talking outside his tent. She had refused to see him, and would’ve been home, but had heard that Lexa had no intention of taking any guards with her. One of Akhila’s men came to tell Clarke, and she had instantly gone to the wall and lined up four archers to cover her reckless wife.

Ilian was unarmed, even though Lexa had her sword strapped to her back. It was the only reason Clarke hadn’t gone down there already. She knew that if she went, she would kill him, and then lose her daughter forever.

She stared at the small garden patch. Two rows of tiny green sprouts swallowed in the dark earth. A few yards into the treeline, various pelts and furs hung on a post. The fucker was making himself at home.

Clarke scowled.

He and Lexa have always had an amicable working relationship, even before the Conclave, despite his vendetta. They focused on what needed to get done for their people. She knew how arrogant he could be, but though he maintained eye contact, Ilian’s demeanour now was a little meeker, his neck slightly dipped in deference as Lexa stood tall, face a mask of impassivity. Not quite the Commander, but most definitely a distrusting parent.

They spoke for over two hours and when Lexa returned, she wouldn’t tell Clarke what they had discussed, or her feelings on the matter. She said she wanted Clarke to speak to him first, and then decide for herself.

***

Clarke refused to speak to him.

She wasn’t sure how long Lexa would give her to be stubborn this time round. What she did know, was that Lexa was struggling too. So while Clarke sequestered herself in her studio, Lexa would come lay on her couch and they would talk about everything other than the Azgeda General camped outside their gates.

Aiden would also come sit with her, and he would talk about nothing else. Regaling Clarke with tales of the times he had spent with the couple and assuring her he believed that it was real. Clarke didn’t acknowledge him at all and Aiden would leave with a sigh and his head hung low.

Echo arrived with an elaborate plan to poison Ilian in a way that would be untraceable, and managed to get a laugh out of her which had been a definite highlight in the gloom that was her life now.

Jake would sit with her too, either writing or reading, while Clarke painted, not saying a word or asking what was happening, and Clarke loved him more for it. They were both emotional beings and Clarke was only grateful he expressed himself through art and not also through violence like she often did.

Grunt came to report that everyday a crowd would gather at the wide-open gates to gawk at Ilian like there was some invisible barrier between him and them, stopping them from going any closer. No one knew what was happening, or why he was there, but at least no rumours had suggested a possible war with Azgeda yet. Though knowing their people, that was bound to become part of the gossip soon.

Abby was the worst though, because she came with updates on Anya. Who was working at the hospital and meeting with her brother, going through the motions of her day without going anywhere near the gates of Polis.

Anya didn’t come to see Clarke. During family dinners, they were the only two people who didn’t speak. They didn’t look at each other and Clarke missed her so much, but she was too scared to say anything. She hadn’t forbidden Anya from seeing Ilian. She hadn’t said the words. Though she might as well have and everyone in the family knew it.

So she and Anya avoided each other, and one day, almost three weeks after Ilian started squatting in their forest, Roan and his delegation returned to Polis.

***

Lexa brought him to the studio, since Clarke had refused to go see him.

“He’s going to be king of Azgeda, Clarke,” Roan said.

“You should be taking steps to move toward a democracy,” she remarked seated behind a canvas while the two of them watched her from the couch.

“He and Aiden have been discussing plans for democracy.”

“And what?” Clarke snapped. “His status should change my mind about him? Do you really think that little of me?”

Roan sighed and glanced at Lexa who was looking at Clarke with those sage eyes, patiently waiting instead of pushing her. Clarke knew that despite being scared, Lexa was at least open to trying to understand the relationship. If she wasn’t, Clarke would’ve known already. And there wouldn’t still be an Ilian at their gates, or in existence.

“I’m telling you this,” Roan patiently continued, “because I know Ilian and I know that he’s a good man. I wouldn’t have had him represent Azgeda in the Conclave otherwise. I wouldn’t have appointed him as general of my army. I certainly wouldn’t crown him King of our people. More importantly, I wouldn’t let him anywhere near the daughter of my closest friends…A child who grew up in front of my very eyes!”

“You let him in the Conclave, and he almost killed my son.”

Roan stood. “Plenty of people died in that Conclave. How many have you killed to avenge your own? He allowed himself to be tempted by the idea of vengeance. Haven’t we all? You want to hold that only against him? How many sons have you killed, Clarke? How many fathers?”

She sneered; fists clenched. “I will hold it against you that you didn’t realise your very own general was a deadly threat to the Commander of the United Territories. To my _wife_ and my _son_. Now you expect me to trust your judgement when my daughter’s life is on the line?”

“Clarke…” Lexa softly said when Roan curled into himself as though punched in the gut.

Her jaw clicked shut and she focused back on her red splattered canvas, grateful when Lexa took him away.

***

Roan didn’t stay long, and Clarke had already made up her mind that she would talk to Ilian, but part of her wanted to see how long he would stick it out. It was the rainy season and they had already been hit by two heavy storms.

Instead of leaving, Ilian had built an overhang to shelter his pelts and placed his plants in pots on makeshift shelves beneath it to keep them from getting flooded.

It stormed hard, and one evening Clarke noticed a worried Anya staring out a window in the hallway. She almost went to her, needing to hug her close, but instead turned and walked back into their bedroom, surprising Lexa with her quick return, who was seated at the foot of their bed, hands in her hair, eyes wide and sad and frightened.

And Clarke knew that Lexa was trying to hold it together for the family, and part of her needed Clarke to rage the way Lexa wouldn’t allow herself to. But it was still Clarke who was keeping her family in limbo. Everyone was waiting on her to do something. To kill Ilian, chase him away, give her blessing…

Lexa stood and Clarke was in her arms a second later.

“I’m sorry,” she hoarsely mumbled into Lexa’s neck. “I don’t know what to do. And I know this shouldn’t be my choice. That it should be Onya’s, but I can’t, Leks. What if I say yes and he hurts her?”

Lexa nodded. “You need to go speak to him and then you'll know more and you can decide how you feel.”

Clarke pushed away from her and glared. “So it's all on me? You're fine with that that man being with our daughter?”

She was trying to pick a fight. They both knew it.

“No. I'm not. I'm scared and I feel helpless, but I'm placing my faith in Onya and I’ll make sure to be there should she need me.”

Clarke deflated instantly.

“I could radio it in right now,” she said. “An arrow to his throat…The wild animals would get him before sunrise. It would look like an unfortunate attack.”

Lexa smiled. “Appealing as that sounds, Onya would see right through you.” 

“Yeah,” Clarke mumbled. “I'll go see him in the morning.” She sighed. “I’m gonna go to my studio, okay? I don't want to keep you up all night.”

Lexa pulled a hair tie from somewhere and gathered her hair into a ponytail. “If that’s what you need,” she said and Clarke’s stomach tightened, two decades worth of conditioning clicking into place. “I need to focus. My mind feels scattered…”

Clarke inhaled shakily, stifling a groan. “I could stay and help?”

“Thank you, Clarke,” Lexa said and kissed her temple. “Wait for me on the bed?”

Clarke nodded, already aching. As soon as the bathroom door shut behind Lexa, she stripped, all thoughts and worries she had ever had in her entire life leaving her at once. Stark naked, she jumped onto the bed and then winced at her clothes messily spread across the floor. She went to pick them up, shoved them in the laundry basket before launching herself onto the bed again.

She sat in the very centre, on her knees and stared at the bathroom door, heart thrumming in anticipation; fists clenched to not touch her already needy flesh.

Lexa didn’t make her wait long, which meant she really did need this and Clarke whimpered when the door opened and she stepped out. Lexa was adjusting a fingerless knuckle duster glove, pulling at the black leather until it snuggly fit her palm, long fingers stretched out, making the leather creak and the sound tugged at Clarke’s bellybutton, making her nipples stiffen further.

The room was quiet, save for her harsh breaths. Usually they put on some music, but sometimes… Clarke froze at the piercing green eyes on her. Lexa stood naked, in only a leather harness, shaped across her hips. Long toned abs, pronounced and ending in the V of Lexa’s groin, right above a thick black silicone dildo, courtesy of Arkadia’s Research Centre.

Clarke swallowed thickly and turned onto her hands and knees. Thighs wet with anticipation, because sometimes Lexa liked to talk. She would tell Clarke the filthiest things, working her up until Clarke felt she would come without ever being touched.

But other times…

A gloved hand wrapped around her ankle and tugged; Clarke’s stomach deliciously lurched even as she quickly scooted to the edge of the bed. Blindly spreading her knees at the urging of leather against her inner thighs…

Her mouth hung open and she whined when the toy poked between her thighs. Lexa leaning over her, hands reaching around to play with Clarke’s breasts.

When Lexa was quiet like that, when the room was quiet, she loved to hear Clarke be loud, and Clarke was determined not to disappoint.

“ _Yes_ …” she hissed and shuddered at the toy stroking through her folds, smooth leather straps rubbing against her ass and thighs.

Clarke mindlessly rode its length, making sure to get it nice and wet for Lexa. The fingers pinching her nipples, and cupping her breasts were relentless and insistent. But it was the tongue and teeth trailing up her spine, the lips planting open-mouthed kisses across the brands that covered her back, that made Clarke shake and whine in need.

“Please…” she begged, needing to hold the toy tighter against her, to grind herself harder onto it, but Lexa would just pull away if she tried.

The toy disappeared and sharp teeth bit her ass cheek making Clarke yelp, but she moaned when a long, warm tongue licked through her folds.

“Mph, ‘fuckin love you,” Clarke mumbled, smothering her face in the blankets.

Lexa’s fingers rubbed slow circles at the top of her folds, while her tongue entered Clarke, making her scream into the sheets. Her hands fisted into the bedding, and she was embarrassed at how quickly her stomach grew warm and tight, Lexa circling faster and faster, until Clarke’s hips bucked and she came with high-pitched squeak.

She shuddered and fought to keep herself upright while Lexa lazily lapped through her folds until Clarke’s mind cleared and her body began that delicious build all over again.

She bit the blankets to stop from cursing out loud, when Lexa moved away and shakily lifted herself, spreading wider, waiting… And gasped when a leather clad hand gripped her waist. She shifted at the firm insistence, rolling onto her back and scooted up toward the pillows when Lexa’s lean and lithe body climbed over her, following her up.

Lexa’s eyes were dark in the soft light, a crease in her brow even when she settled between Clarke’s wide-open thighs, and slowly moved her hips, smoothly grinding the toy through Clarke’s slick. It felt dizzyingly good, but the mood had changed.

Clarke reached up to cup her cheek, smiling tenderly when Lexa’s eyes fell shut and she leaned into the touch. And Clarke’s determination to distract her from her thoughts, renewed.

She slipped her fingers behind Lexa’s neck and leaned up, kissing her and moaning at the taste of herself on Lexa’s lips and tongue, on her chin and cheeks. Lexa always ate her as though she’d been starved for weeks.

Clarke sucked on her tongue and Lexa grunted, kissing her harder and pressed Clarke back into her pillows. A hand reached between their bodies, and Clarke gasped, growing even wetter when the toy was placed at her entrance.

Lexa’s fingers slipped through her folds and over the toy, then back through her wetness again. Once. Twice. And then slowly pushed inside.

Breaking the kiss, Clarke’s head lolled back, breathing in and lightly mewled at Lexa’s shallow little thrusts, gradually going in deeper. A mouth latched onto her neck and Clarke gripped onto the solid triceps pinned at either side of her.

Teeth grazed over a tight nipple, sucking hard and Clarke’s breath hitched when Lexa bottomed out. She wrapped her arms around strong shoulders and drew her knees up.

Lexa got the hint and pressed their breasts together, stilling in the embrace. She kissed Clarke back, allowing her a moment to adjust, and then her hips began to move.

Everything began to move.

The sinewy muscles down Lexa’s back that Clarke dug her fingertips into, their breasts pressed together, Lexa’s nipples hard and pointed into her flesh. Lexa’s hips rolled with her rhythmic thrusts, their stomachs hot and wet each time they smoothly smacked together.

The sounds were obscene.

Clarke was entirely soaked up to her pubic bone. The smacking sound of Lexa slamming against her thighs made her flush even hotter. She clenched around the toy, gripping it so tightly that a low moan rumbled through Lexa’s body in response.

Clarke cupped the back of Lexa’s head, keeping her close and breathed harshly over her ear, meeting her every thrust with her own canting hips. Feeling ready to explode in pleasure.

“I’m so close,” she whispered, and Lexa’s entire body seemed to swell and increase in pace.

Clarke’s eyes fluttered, Lexa’s lower stomach pressing insistently against her was driving her fast toward release.

“I’ve got you, Leks,” she murmured, biting her lip when Lexa’s hips stuttered, then slammed into her again. “Just let go…Let me feel you…”

Lexa whimpered and bit into Clarke’s shoulder.

Clarke kept a hand low on Lexa’s sweaty back to help keep her inside.

“That’s it…” Clarke rasped, teetering on the edge. “You fuck me so good, baby…”

Her moans echoed Lexa’s. Going faster and faster and Clarke forgot to speak when Lexa drove into her, their bodies sliding together until she cried out, her back arching against hot, toned, flesh. Lexa groaned into her neck, hips slamming harshly, their bodies violently shuddering, before they stilled, tightly clinging to each other.

A warm insisted mouth covered Clarke’s and she lazily smiled into the kiss.

***

Akhila came by the day after the storm, seven weeks since Ilian had started his vigil, to tell them that the pots at his camp site contained The Flower.

***

“What sort of general leaves his army unattended for this long?” Clarke said and hid her smirk when Ilian jumped in his skin, spinning around where he’d been stacking wood for a fire.

“I have permission from my King and have made arrangements for our army to continue at the command of my captains.” He quickly recovered, standing and warily watched Clarke approach from the trees and enter his camp.

“It’s selfish. Hardly the mark of good leader.”

“Perhaps, but sometimes we need to show our intent, instead of merely stating it.”

Clarke stalked forward until she was right up in his face. “I saw your intent when my son laid bloodied and beaten on his back and you were readying to drive your lance straight through his head,” she gritted out, fists clenched with renewed rage. “No offer to concede, no attempt to restrain, or subdue. Your _intent_ was to kill him.”

Ilian smiled and Clarke punched him in the mouth.

He staggered a step back in surprise, but remained upright and rubbed the blood from his split lip. “Forgive me, Pauna, I didn’t mean to offend you. I wasn’t smiling at the Commander’s expense.”

Clarke remembered talking to Ilian in the garden, overwrought with emotions, threatening him with non-other than Anya’s arrow pointed at his head. Her blades hung heavy at the centre of her back. Akhila’s men were situated all around them, and she wondered whether Ilian had any idea how close he was to death.

“I was smiling because I couldn’t believe how far I had come from being that angry man.”

“I’m supposed to trust a man who has a history of having his anger turn to violence, with my daughter?”

“I was angry when I heard the opportunities given to me was granted by the woman who had killed my father,” he said and crouched down to continue building his fire. “King Roan said that though I had received some privilege, that it had been my own hard work that elevated me. I lied and told him that I believed him, but I was an angry boy, who grew into an angry man. Resentful of the fact that my family was dead and I was rewarded for it.”

“And you think you’re the only one who had a bad childhood? Who was angry at the hand life had dealt them?”

“Even when I got to know Commander Leksa and learnt to respect her as a leader, I couldn't let my anger go. I thought I was fine, but when I saw your family, happy and together, all that bitterness came back. I planned on winning the Conclave. It felt wrong to have such a fortunate life built on his torture. I needed to do _something_ for him. It wasn't about Aiden, who I respect as my Heda and whom I have come to call an ally and friend...All I was obsessed with back then, was winning and vengeance, as I vowed I would do in my father’s name.”

“So you’re a violent and bitter man obsessed with winning and revenge?”

“I didn't understand how jaded my worldview had become until I met Onya...” he continued, gently stuffing more kindling between the wood. “She made me see that it wasn't Heda that gave me opportunities. That it was my father who had died to give them to me. She told me that even in death he protected his family and reminded me that he died during war time, where the rules are different.”

“One would assume that as a decorated general you wouldn’t need others to tell you about what we are forced to do during war.”

“I know to recognize personal decisions from war strategy...and had anyone else told me this, I would've thought they were trying to manipulate me to their cause. But Onya...” A small affectionate smile pulled at lips. “Onya, says what she wants with no regard to a man's pride or his heart.” He grinned and Clarke glared. “When she talks, I listen and I believe.”

“So you’re easily swayed? A pretty girl tells you something and you give up a decades long plan for vengeance?”

“When Aiden defeated me in the Conclave, I was taken to your hospital where I met Onya.” He smiled again and Clarke didn't want to see it, but his battle-hardened face softened considerably. His nose had been broken a few times. Most recently by Lexa.

“She was not nice to me at all.” Ilian laughed. “She'd been focused on Aiden's recovery during that time. I was nothing but a nuisance to her. The reason her brother was injured. And yet she still made sure that I healed.”

Clarke searched his face, trying to see what Anya loved about him, even when she knew that no one would ever be good enough in her eyes. Not for Anya.

“She's so smart…” Ilian murmured in awe. “And she was so angry at me for threatening her family. I was still angry too and we argued every single day during my convalescence. Each time she came to check on me I would feel the need to debate her, to justify my actions...I’m not sure when it had turned into good-natured banter, until it was the day before my release, and I dreaded the day after, where I wouldn't get to see her.”

Clarke wanted to punch him again, not hear any of this. She needed to hold onto her anger, perhaps bait him into fighting her. Anya would understand if she was defending herself. She could kill him right then and have twenty people lined up to say he had attacked her first. He must’ve known that and yet he sat there, building his stupid fire, no weapon in sight.

“But what could I do?” he continued, striking a piece of flint and lighting the kindle. “I left and I convinced myself it was for the best. Even though she had given me so much to think about, to re-evaluate my life…she remained the daughter of the person who had killed my father, and I would dishonour my family for even thinking about a friendship...But then—”

“But then she showed up in Azgeda to help expand the hospital,” Clarke supplied.

Anya had been there for almost a year. Clarke had visited her three times and had noticed the change. The soft smiles at nothing. She thought Anya was simply happy to be travelling on her own and placed in charge of such an important project.

Ilian laughed softly and nodded. “I was gone on her the instant I saw her again. We shared dinner with Roan and his family each night and I invited her on walks afterward...She listens to me and understands so much of the responsibilities I face...Of who I am…” His jaw clenched. “I found my peace in her acceptance. You raised an amazing woman, Pauna.”

Clarke chuckled throatily, her chest aching. “I wish I could take credit, but Onya has always been exceptional.”

Ilian nodded. “The age difference between us is not uncommon among Azgedakru, but Onya has said that Skaikru might frown upon it.”

Clarke nodded stiffly, hating how she had already softened toward him.

“It's not the 8 years that bothers me,” she said. “Onya's young, only turning 23. She has her entire life ahead of her.”

“Forgive me, Pauna, but you bonded with Heda when you were 20.”

“Because we thought I was going to die.”

“According to Onya, it was because you loved each other.”

“Don't make me kill you.”

He smiled. “People say she's so much like Heda, but I have to admit, she takes after you a lot too.”

“She often threatens to kill you?”

“She loves very fiercely.” Clarke's jaws clenched shut. “It's overwhelming at times to feel worthy of that affection,” he softly admitted. “We haven’t consummated. I wanted your and Heda’s blessing first. She deserves more than sneaking around in the dark and feeling as though our love should be something to be ashamed of.”

“So, you want to bond with her?”

“Very much. The first time I tried to kiss her, she had a dagger to my throat before I'd even made it halfway to her face.” He grinned proudly. “It took a very long time for her to trust me. I didn't mind putting in the effort and discovering parts of her each time she lets me see. I am a patient man, and if it takes me another few years to earn your trust as well, I will do it gladly if she allows me…If she will wait for me, too.”

“You plan on sitting outside these gates for years?”

“I'm used to fighting with swords, planning and executing a battle plan. For me, it's easy to set a goal and then work towards it. I love her and will fight for her and since I can't use my sword, all I can do is this. Staying here and showing her that I won’t give up.”

He rose to his feet, removing a letter from his pocket that had been refolded a few times.

“I know I have no right asking things of you, Pauna, but if you could please give this to her,” he said and held out the note with a trembling hand.

Clarke stared at it confusedly because he wasn't scared of her, but when he spoke again, she realised the source of his fear. “And if—if she needs me to stop…to go back to Azgeda…all she may do is tell me so, and I will respect her wishes. She may write it in a note as well, if she'd rather not see me.”

***

Clarke didn’t read the letter, though doing so would’ve been easy. It hadn’t even occurred to her to do so while she had it, instead riding directly to the hospital where Anya met her in her office.

They sat with the desk between them, and Clarke watched beautiful brown eyes skid across the singular page before Anya neatly folded the letter again and placed it on the desk in front of her.

“Did you feel you couldn’t tell me?” Clarke asked.

Anya smiled sadly. “Aiden nearly killed Ilian when he found out.”

Clarke’s brows rose, though she shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d been so mad at Aiden, thinking he wasn’t protecting his sister that she hadn’t bothered asking him how he’d found out, or what his initial reaction had been.

“He beat him so badly that everyone in Azgeda believed Ilian’s story that he was attacked by a pauna.”

Clarke grinned proudly and Anya shook her head. “The only reason Aiden hadn’t killed him was because he realised that Ilian wasn’t fighting back.”

Clarke sighed. “Has your nomon been spending time with you?”

Anya nodded and smiled. “We’ve made a lot of soap these past few weeks.”

Clarke softly laughed. She had known Lexa wouldn’t allow Anya to feel abandoned while Clarke worked through her crisis.

“Do you want to marry him?”

“I don’t want to lose my family.”

Clarke’s eyes stung. “Do you think we would disown you for who you love?”

Anya shook her head. “I know you’re scared for me, mom. I understand why that is. I know what he did, but he was fighting his own demons and not Aiden. I can’t ask you to blindly believe that when it took me so long to believe it too.”

“But I’m going to blindly believe you, okay?” Clarke rasped and Anya carefully watched her. “We’ll need to get to know him.”

Anya nodded, eyes bright and hopeful.

“So the engagement will need to be long.”

Her smile grew wide and bright but she nodded again and Clarke wanted to give her every good fucking thing in the world.

“And I will kill him the second I suspect his intentions are corrupt.”

Anya grinned, got up and rounded the desk throwing her arms around Clarke’s neck. “You, Nomon and Aiden will need to make turns. If he survives a long engagement with the three of you watching him, I will know that it’s meant to be.”

***

They dressed up in their ceremonial armour, because it had been a while since Lexa had partaken in a little ceremony. Their personal guard were resplendent in shiny armour and war paint. On her white horse, beside Lexa’s black stallion, Clarke’s blue cape fluttered in tandem with Lexa’s red sash as they led the procession through Polis.

Grunt and Aiden followed behind them and Anya was dressed in a silky green dress, sat upon her chestnut horse riding behind them, but ahead of the twelve guards at her back.

They instantly drew a crowd who curiously followed and gathered outside the gates where Jake and the rest of the family already waited on the walls.

Anya stood back, while Lexa and Clarke dismounted, walking over to where Ilian stood in full armour too, a white cape with a blue Azgeda symbol painted on it, pinned to his shiny silver pauldron’s. He was clean, his hair neatly brushed, eyes bright and full of hope.

Behind him, Roan sat on horseback in front of an entire Azgeda battalion in full ceremonial armour, all of them mounted atop a sea of white horses, blue Azgeda flags flapping in the breeze. Lexa’s eyes glittered at the effort that was made and her chin lifted, looking back to Ilian.

He bowed low and presented them each with a bundle of furs and pelts. They were neatly folded, tied together with string, and Clarke remembered seeing the care and effort that had gone into skinning and treating them.

The tension seemed to leave his shoulders when they accepted the items, and Clarke nearly remarked that they would hardly have gotten all dressed up to refuse him. Well, maybe she would have, but Lexa would’ve definitely stopped her.

The bundles were bulky and heavy and she was grateful when Aiden and Grunt relieved them of it.

All eyes were on Ilian though, who grinned larger than Clarke had thought him capable of, looking like and entirely different man.

He slowly walked forward and lowered onto his knees in front of Anya who stood poised, and composed, though her gaze was soft on him. The Flower was shakily removed from where he had stowed it in between the folds of his armour and shakily extended to her.

The crowd hushed and Anya being Anya, didn’t even pretend to create any suspense, and immediately accepted it. Everyone outside the gates and the soldiers on the walls, broke into cheers and the Azgedan war battalion loudly beat their weapons against their plated chests.

Clarke was both guilty and grateful when Ilian kissed Anya’s forehead and carefully embraced her against his armour. She’d seen more than enough of his tongue down her throat, thank you very much.

She might be willing to give him a chance, but it would take time, and she leaned into Lexa’s side when long fingers threaded with her own, in silent support.

***

Anya had been in Azgeda for a week, checking on the hospital and visiting while they prepared for Ilian’s inauguration and Clarke was itching with anxiety. She’d been unable to paint and though Grunt was there with Anya, as representative of the Commander, she couldn’t help but worry.

She was grateful when Lexa summoned her to her study that evening, where her throne still stood, and Clarke hoped some sex would take her mind off of her worries. When she entered though, in a short silky slip, quickly closing the door behind her, she froze at the sight that greeted her.

Lexa stood with a ball of yellow fur in her arms. The puppy big and young and healthy.

“She has your hair, Clarke…” Lexa pouted, placing her chin on the puppy’s head. “You know how much I love things with your hair…”

Clarke carefully walked closer and when brown puppy dog eyes turned to her, she knew there was no way she could turn her away.

“You did not get us a puppy to replace our daughter, Leks.”

“Need I remind you that you wanted to get us a child because you were bored?”

“Touché, Heda,” Clarke mumbled, accepting the furry bundle, entirely absorbed in the fluffy ears and wagging tail.

“Her family’s here in Polis and she can still go back. I was careful that Jake not see her yet, so the choice is yours.”

A wet nose sniffled in her neck and Clarke’s heart melted.

“Good?” Lexa checked and of course Clarke immediately nodded.

“Mochof, ai hod.”

Lexa grinned, kissed her head and motioned her over to the old war table where a map of the United Territories was spread out across it.

“Aiden’s been swamped with requests for aid, raiders have been staking out the main road that leads from Polis to Azgeda and cuts through the Horse and Valley clan territories. They’ve been targeting supply caravans.”

Clarke nodded, smiling down at the puppy.

“I think we should train her to hunt raiders with us.”

“With us…?”

“I’ve volunteered us to take a few of the new recruits on a training mission. Get them some battle experience. Ekko has indicated she will take Jake and you know he will love that.”

Clarke chuckled and nodded. No doubt that he will.

“After clearing out a few raider camps, we should be relaxed enough to attend the new King of Azgeda’s inauguration. And since he’s a new king, we’re going to need to sanctify his throne appropriately.”

Clarke grinned brightly. “You are the best wife ever.”

“I know. And that’s why I’ll give you the honour of naming our puppy.”

“Picasso,” Clarke replied, without needing to think about it.

THE END

<<<<>>>>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series is so violent. Clarke and Lexa killed so many people. I thought it would be nice to write something about someone affected by their actions. And how those actions had shaped that person. If the story was written from Ilian's PoV, starting as a boy, learning the Commander killed his dad...Well, Lexa would've been the 'villain' of that story.  
> No idea how you guys are gonna react to this. I mean, Clarke is still suspicious, of him, so I'll understand if you are too.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed the family dynamics and that the smut wasn't too long, I've been feeling some kind of way these past few days and needed to express it.
> 
> Picasso is real, dunno whose dog she is in canon, but she's Clarke and Lexa's fourth child now.
> 
> May you read again, nomonjokas <3


End file.
